


Crushing

by raiyana



Series: The Reader Inserts [7]
Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Dwarf!Reader, F/M, Gen, Meddling, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Secret Crush, Tumblr: ImaginexHobbit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-06
Updated: 2017-08-06
Packaged: 2018-12-11 23:34:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,882
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11724909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raiyana/pseuds/raiyana
Summary: This is connected to my other imagine drabble ‘Cuddles’ in which the reader/oc has an undisclosed crush... this is the story of ‘what if that crush was Dwalin’. Follows on chapter two of Cuddles, though it can stand alone.Based on “Imagine falling in love with Dwalin on the quest and, after rebuilding Erebor, the she-dwarves start fawning over Dwalin; when you are hurt, Balin confronts his brother and convinces him to tell you how he feels“





	Crushing

Of course, you’d fallen for him, how could you not? He was everything a dwarf should be; brawny, bulky, able to smash skulls with his fists… and he had a kind heart to go along with it, a softness in his eyes when he looked at the lads – even Ori, who was no kin of his had come under that blue-eyed aegis of protection during the Quest. Dwalin knew you well enough to know you could take care of yourself, and yet he still looked out for you and your brothers. Nori might have died in Goblin Town if not for Dwalin’s strength, you knew, the thought still making you shudder. How could you not love such a dwarf? Even back in Ered Luin you’d nursed a small tenderness for the gruff lump of granite, carefully hidden away in your heart. He had never looked at you twice, which was _fine_ , you told yourself, stomping away from the sparring rings.

It was not fine.

With the Mountain slowly filling up with returning dwarrow, you did not have as much time to spend with any member of the Company – not even your brothers, who were busy in their own roles anyway – but you made it a point to show up for your weekly spar with Dwalin, even if you didn’t really have time to fit it into your schedule. Of course, you saw him at dinner sometimes – most eating was still done communally, and the Company ate together at least twice a month as a general rule. Usually, he seemed as eager as you when you showed up in the rings – though no formal agreement had been made between you, you still felt as though this was _your_ time. Today, he was simply not present. You had gone a round with Fíli – still recovering so you didn’t use your full strength – but it was half-hearted at best.

You’d heard him before you saw him.

“Aye, and when the Great Goblin King fell, he took the supportin beams with’im and landed right on top o’ us!” Dwalin exclaimed, to a great chorus of female sighing. You stiffened.

“And then what did you do?” someone gushed. You wanted to throttle her, especially as you caught sight of the pleased look on Dwalin’s face as he looked at his little fan.

“Well, then things got a bit tricky. You see, we had people trapped underneath piles of wood, and a whole mountain’s worth of Goblins coming for us – s’pose they didn’t much like that we killed their king,” Dwalin added thoughtfully. “Well, I looked at Thorin, and Thorin looked at me, and then we started trying to pull at the beams. ‘Leave no Dwarf behind!’ I thought, as I pulled Lord Nori from the debris,” they ooh’ed and ahh’ed at that. You scowled. “Mori!” Dwalin exclaimed, catching sight of you. “This, ladies,” he gestured grandly, “is Lord Nori’s sister, Lady Mori.” It was such a little thing, to be introduced as your brother’s sister, as though you hadn’t earned your place in the Company ten times over; including saving Dwalin’s ungrateful hide a time or two!

“Hello, Dwalin, ladies,” you nodded coldly to all of them. Dwalin frowned a little at your icy expression. You felt an almost overpowering need to be elsewhere, immediately.

“Here for a good spar?” he asked, his eyes bright and hopeful.

“No.” Your voice remained cool, detached. “I haven’t any more time to spend fooling around here,” you claimed, decisively. Fooling around with weapons or fooling yourself that you mattered to the blind oaf, you weren’t sure. Being a fool, perhaps, you thought viciously, fully aware that Nori – at least – was aware of your crush. “Dwalin,” you nodded, ignoring the crestfallen look on his face, “ladies.” With another nod, you swept past them, resting your axe on your shoulder. It wasn’t your favourite weapon, preferring the sword or the glaives, but last week you’d promised him a fight with axes.

 

* * *

 

“Mori isn’t sitting with us tonight?” Balin asked quietly, taking his place beside Dwalin. Tonight was the bi-monthly Company dinner and Mori was flanked by all three of her brothers as far away from Dwalin as the table allowed. Usually, the ri’s would sit by the Fundinuls, and Balin wasn’t the only one puzzled by the change in seating arrangements. He had tried to catch Dori’s eye, but the mithril-haired tailor had ignored him completely. The dismissal stung, the old diplomat having formed a deep friendship with the oldest ri-brother during the Quest. He had even tried subtly enquiring about the possibility of a closer connection – he wasn’t blind to the way Dwalin sighed after Mori, of course – though nothing had come of it yet. Dori was fiercely protective of his siblings, after all, having been more of a mother to them than their own who’d died when Ori was very young. Mori and Nori – born only three years apart and the only two who knew for sure that they had the same adad – had run wild in Ered Luin, their adad a known thief and grifter. Nori, of course, had become a thief, while Mori had become a sellsword, off with trading caravans before she was truly old enough, the both of them desperate to help Dori raise little Ori as best they could.

“No,” Dwalin sighed sadly. “She’s mad at me because I was late for our sparring session.” Balin just hummed thoughtfully.

 

* * *

 

 

“It’s fine, Nori,” you hissed, keeping your voice low enough that Dori wouldn’t catch it. He was busy pushing greens on Ori, however, an unbreakable habit it seemed, and didn’t pay the two of you any attention. Nori was always looking out for you, the two of you affectionately known as the Twins. Brushing your red hair – a few shades redder than Nori’s auburn – away from your face, you tried to focus on the sumptuous meal.

“It’s not fine if you’re unhappy, Mo.” Nori whispered back. He was the only one allowed to call you Mo, shortening your already shortened name.

“I knew it’d never happen, No,” you replied, “I always knew. Just… just leave it alone,” you sighed. Nori frowned at you, but he changed the topic easily. Sometimes, you really loved Nori.

 

* * *

 

 

“Where’s Mori?” Dwalin asked, sitting himself down by Nori with a puzzled frown. “She wasn’t in the rings today,” he complained, when Nori didn’t answer.

“Why do you care, Dwalin?” the spymaster asked, his voice deceptively pleasant as he played with one of his many hidden knives, making it dance between nimble fingers.

“She’s the only one willing to put me on my arse,” Dwalin admitted sheepishly. “I look forward to sparring with her every week! She’s so busy, but she makes time for me anyway.. it – _she_ – makes me… happy,” he finished, staring into his mug with a desolate expression. He did not want Nori to know that part of his enjoyment came from feeling her body so close to his, the exhilaration he felt when he caught a whiff of her hair oil on his skin or his clothes after a round of unarmed combat. 

“You sound a little smitten,” Nori remarked drily, a smirk flashing in Dwalin’s direction. The warrior gaped. He’d been so careful! No one except Balin knew what he felt for the fiery temptress, he was sure of it, always careful not to watch her when others could see. It had been a nightmare on the Quest, honestly, her presence constant, her wry smiles inescapable. He could still see Bilbo’s hand wrapped around her breast that night, could remember wishing – and dreaming, later – that it had been his hand; that she had _welcomed_ his touch.

“No!” he protested, acutely aware that he was sitting next to the one Dwarf in Erebor who would have no problem slipping a knife between his ribs if he thought Dwalin had set his eyes on his sister. “yes,” he murmured, a second later, momentarily feeling a need to get it all out there. “She’s so beautiful,” he whispered dreamily, while Nori looked a little green beside him. Dwalin didn’t notice, “and strong, and brave, and – _Oh Mahal_ – when she smiles at me…” he trailed off, suddenly mortified. “Don’t worry, Nori, nothing will come of my infatuation, I know,” he sighed, getting to his feet. “Mori deserves better than a scarred old warrior.” Tossing back the last dregs of his ale, Dwalin morosely lumbered off to the large house he shared with Balin; the same house their adad had owned before their Exile.

 

* * *

 

 

“Dwalin is in love with my sister.”

It wasn’t a question, but Balin nodded anyway, slightly surprised that the thief-turned-spymaster hadn’t said anything before now.

“Has been for… oh, must be 20-odd years since I first heard his tales about the fiery beauty who knocked him down flat in two minutes,” Balin mused. Nori chuckled. “I have tried, over the years, to get him to confess his heart,” Balin sighed. “I thought he would… before the Battle…” he trailed off, remembering the tense hours they had sat in the darkness of Erebor’s front hall and listened to the sounds of Dáin’s warriors battling the Orcs with the aid of the Elves.

“He only told her to be careful,” Nori replied, before he disappeared as silently as he had arrived. Balin shook his head in fond exasperation.

 

* * *

 

 

“Where is Mori?” Thorin Oakenshield asked, at the next Company dinner. The ris were missing a member, he saw.

“Iron Hills, possibly,” Nori replied blandly. “Though she could be halfway to Ered Luin by now.”

“WHAT!” Dwalin roared, standing with such force that he knocked his chair over. “You let her go off on her own?! Anything could happen to her!” he seethed. Nori grinned unrepentantly. “She could be hurt! How can you just sit there, laughing!” Dwalin pointed an accusatory finger at Nori, while Ori’s mouth opened as if to speak. The thief’s lightning-quick hand shot out, blocking whatever words the scribe was about to utter. Dwalin continued ranting in that vein for some time until…

“Why, Dwalin, I didn’t know you cared,” you remarked, catching the tail end of an impressive rant aimed in Nori’s direction and concerning your well-being. You wondered what that was about, even as you felt giddy with the confirmation that Dwalin did care about you. The warrior whirled, staring at you as though he couldn’t believe his eyes. You smiled tentatively. “Sorry, I’m late, everyone,” you waved at the room in general, but no one dared break the silence after Dwalin’s outburst.

“Mori…” he groaned, and your name had never sounded so good before.

“Yes, Dwalin?” you asked, looking up at him with puzzled eyes. The hug was unexpected, but not as unexpected as the small words whispered in your ear.

“Please don’t leave me.” When he pulled back, you were surprised by the swirl of emotion in his eyes, the gentleness with which he cupped your face. You felt frozen to the spot, unconsciously licking your lips.

“Oh, Mahal wept!” Thorin groused. “Kiss her already, you old fool, before dinner gets cold. I’m tired of all the pussyfooting around!” The Company laughed, but you didn’t notice over the sound of your heart racing in response to the softness of Dwalin’s lips meeting your own.


End file.
